A Bauhaus-inspired fusion of science, art, and corporate audacity in the heart of Berlin. Free admission. Interactive museum. Giant brass balls. Yes, the brass balls are real.
Every great company has an origin story. Ours begins in seat 14A of a Lufthansa Airbus A330, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, between a twelve-year-old boy and a man who had no idea what was about to happen to him.
In June 2023, Jonathan Thompson boarded a flight from Berlin Tegel to Orlando, Florida, for a family vacation to Disney World. He was seated in business class because his mother, Karen, had accumulated enough frequent flyer miles through her work as a pharmaceutical sales representative, and because Jonathan had, at age eleven, written a letter to Lufthansa's CEO suggesting three specific improvements to their yield management algorithm. The CEO had responded with an upgrade. Jonathan considered this "a reasonable exchange of value."
Seated next to Jonathan was Martin Schulz, a senior investment banker at Deutsche Bank's Frankfurt office, specializing in healthcare and biotechnology mergers and acquisitions. Martin was fifty-three years old, managing over €2 billion in client assets, and looking forward to eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
He did not get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.
According to Martin's later testimony — delivered at a Small Ball Technologies investor event, where he spoke with the haunted enthusiasm of a man who has seen something he cannot un-see — the conversation began when Jonathan noticed Martin reading a McKinsey report on biotech investment trends. Jonathan leaned over and said: "Your report is wrong about three things. Would you like to know which three?"
Martin, amused, said yes. Jonathan proceeded to dismantle the report's market sizing methodology, its assumptions about regulatory timelines in the EU, and its failure to account for what Jonathan called "the entirely untapped market for reproductive optimization." Martin stopped being amused and started being concerned. Then Jonathan pulled out a notebook — a physical notebook, college-ruled, with a dinosaur on the cover — and began sketching financial projections.
"By the time we reached cruising altitude, I knew I was talking to a genius. By the time the drinks cart came, I knew I was going to fund him. By the time we landed, I had committed twelve million euros to a company that did not yet exist, run by a child who ordered apple juice from the flight attendant immediately after explaining his five-year revenue model. I called my wife from the tarmac. She thought I was having a stroke."
— Martin Schulz, Speaking at Small Ball Technologies Investor Day, November 2023
Jonathan maintains he was not trying to pitch Martin. "I was explaining science to a confused adult," he told reporters at the company's first press conference. "He happened to have money. That was his contribution to the conversation." Martin, for his part, has described the experience as "the best and most confusing investment decision of my career."
The €12 million seed round closed before Jonathan returned from Disney World. He spent four days at the Magic Kingdom. His mother reports he "had a wonderful time" and "only talked about testicular optimization twice during the trip, both times at character dining." Goofy was reportedly involved in one of these conversations, though the details remain unconfirmed.
Martin Schulz has since left Deutsche Bank to serve as a full-time strategic advisor to Small Ball Technologies. His former colleagues describe this decision as "baffling." Martin describes it as "the only thing I've ever done that makes complete sense."
A neglected Bauhaus gem, rescued by a child, restored to its original vision, and repurposed as the global headquarters for testicular optimization science. The architect, were he still alive, would have questions.
The building at Kurfürstendamm 42 was originally designed in 1929 by the architect Wilhelm Dressler, a student of Walter Gropius and a devoted adherent of the Bauhaus school's founding principles: simplicity, functionality, and the radical belief that form should follow function. Dressler intended the building as a cultural center — a space for exhibitions, lectures, and the free exchange of ideas. He could not have predicted what those ideas would eventually be about.
Over the following century, the building served as a department store (1935-1943), an administrative office for the Allied occupation (1945-1952), a jazz club (1960-1978), a discount electronics retailer (1983-2001), and, most recently, nothing at all. By the time Jonathan acquired it in late 2023, the building had been vacant for twenty-two years. The roof leaked. The windows were boarded. A family of pigeons had established what an urban wildlife specialist later described as "a genuinely impressive colony" in the third-floor conference room.
Jonathan selected the building for three reasons, which he enumerated in a press release with characteristic precision: (1) its architectural significance, (2) its location on one of Berlin's most prominent boulevards, and (3) its dimensions, which he described as "proportionally optimal," a phrase he declined to elaborate on, saying only that "people who understand geometry will understand."
The renovation took seven months and was guided by Bauhaus principles: clean lines, natural light, open spaces, and the abolition of unnecessary ornamentation. Jonathan oversaw the project personally, attending weekly site meetings where he would arrive on his bicycle, wearing a hard hat that was slightly too large for his head, and deliver instructions to contractors who were, by all accounts, "deeply uncertain about the chain of command."
Glass walls throughout. Every meeting room is visible from the main floor. Jonathan says this prevents "the kind of corporate secrecy that allows bad ideas to survive." It also means no one can nap under their desk, which Henrik describes as "a significant lifestyle adjustment."
The building maintains an ambient temperature of 19.5°C (67.1°F) at all times. This is not a comfort decision. Internal studies suggest this temperature range is optimal for testicular function. Employees who are cold are offered branded blankets. Complaints are logged and reviewed by Jonathan personally.
All architectural details reference spherical forms. Door handles are round. Light fixtures are spherical. Conference tables are circular. The building contains zero rectangular tables. Jonathan considers rectangles "an aesthetic compromise." Interior designers involved in the project have described the constraint as "challenging but, in retrospect, surprisingly coherent."
Every element in the building serves a purpose. There is no decorative art that does not also educate. There is no seating that has not been ergonomically assessed for its impact on scrotal temperature. The chairs in the break room cost €1,200 each. Jonathan considers this "a reasonable investment in pelvic alignment."
Designed by Wilhelm Dressler as a Bauhaus cultural center. Dressler described it as "a building that breathes." The Berlin building inspectorate described it as "structurally adequate."
Converted to a retail establishment selling housewares and men's clothing. Ironically, the underwear department occupied the same floor that now houses CompressCore R&D.
Used as an administrative office during the occupation. Records from this period are sparse but suggest the building was considered "drafty."
Home to "Das Blaue Ei" (The Blue Egg), a legendary jazz club. The name was, in retrospect, thematically appropriate. Several notable performances took place in what is now Jonathan's office.
Operated as "ElektroMax," a discount electronics store. Former employees describe the era as "loud." The building's Bauhaus purity was compromised by fluorescent lighting and linoleum. Dressler would not have approved.
Twenty-two years of neglect. The pigeon colony grew to an estimated 340 birds. A structural assessment in 2019 described the building as "technically still standing."
Purchased by Small Ball Technologies GmbH for an undisclosed sum. The pigeons were humanely relocated. Several reportedly attempted to return. Security was briefed.
Renovated and reopened as Small Ball Technologies headquarters. The ribbon-cutting was performed by Jonathan using scissors that were, per his specification, "spherically optimized" — meaning they had round handles. The ceremony took four minutes. Jonathan does not believe in long ceremonies.
They are 1.8 meters in diameter. They weigh 2,400 kilograms each. They are positioned at our entrance. They are, depending on whom you ask, either a bold artistic statement about scientific courage or the most provocative piece of corporate sculpture in German history.
Jonathan commissioned the sculpture in January 2024 from Katarina Voss, a Berlin-based artist known for her large-scale metal installations. The brief, which Katarina has since shared publicly, was characteristically precise: "Two spheres. Brass. Polished. Large enough to be visible from Kurfürstendamm but not so large that they block the entrance. They should communicate courage, precision, and optimism. They are not testicles. They are spheres. Please do not confuse the two."
Katarina, who had previously created installations for the Hamburger Bahnhof and the Venice Biennale, accepted the commission. She later told Die Zeit that she found the brief "refreshingly specific" and that working with Jonathan was "like working with a very small, very confident museum director who has strong opinions about surface finish."
The sculpture was installed overnight on March 15, 2024. By 8:00 AM the following morning, it had been photographed 4,300 times and posted to social media with captions ranging from "bold" to "absolutely unhinged." The Berliner Zeitung ran a feature titled "The Balls of Kurfürstendamm." Bild went with "BOY (12) PUTS GIANT BALLS ON BERLIN STREET." Jonathan's only response was to correct Bild's parenthetical, noting that he was "still twelve but would be thirteen in August."
Initially, the reception was overwhelmingly positive. The Berlin Art Council described the installation as "a striking meditation on form, scale, and the relationship between public space and private enterprise." Architecture critics praised the way the spheres complemented the Bauhaus facade. The neighborhood association expressed cautious approval, noting that "at least someone is finally doing something with that building."
For the first three months, the brass balls were one of Berlin's most photographed landmarks. Tour groups added Kurfürstendamm 42 to their routes. A local café created a specialty drink called "The Small Ball" (espresso, oat milk, and an unnecessarily small cup). Instagram influencers posed with the sculpture using the hashtag #BrassBallsEnergy, which briefly trended in Germany.
As Small Ball Technologies grew more prominent — and as the nature of the company's products became more widely understood — the sculpture's symbolism became contested. A coalition of community leaders published an open letter calling the installation "an emblem of corporate hubris that trivializes the public sphere." A city council member described it as "corporate excess and insensitivity masquerading as art."
The German tabloid press had a field day. Bild ran a poll: "Should the balls stay or go?" (Results: 52% stay, 48% go, margin of error ±4%). A late-night television host devoted an entire segment to the controversy, concluding with: "Germany has survived many things. It will survive two brass spheres." The segment won an award. Jonathan did not watch it. He was doing homework.
In a move that surprised everyone, Jonathan hosted a series of open forums at the headquarters, inviting critics, community leaders, artists, and members of the public to discuss the sculpture. He personally moderated the first session, sitting at the head of a round table (there are no rectangular tables in the building), wearing a blazer and a name tag that read "Jonathan, CEO."
Over four weeks, 340 community members attended the forums. Jonathan listened to every concern, took notes in his dinosaur notebook, and presented a formal response document titled "On the Subject of the Spheres: A Response to Community Feedback." The document was fourteen pages long, contained three graphs, and concluded with the sentence: "The balls stay."
However, Jonathan did make concessions. An informational plaque was added explaining the artistic intent. A community art fund was established, allocating €50,000 annually to local artists. And the lighting was adjusted so the spheres would be less "aggressively prominent" after dark, a phrase from the community feedback that Jonathan included in the response document with the parenthetical note: "We accept this characterization, though we do not agree with it."
"They're spheres. They represent spherical optimization. I literally don't understand the controversy. They're not testicles. They're spheres. Testicles are not perfectly spherical. These are. That's the entire point. I feel like I'm explaining geometry to people who have seen geometry before."
— Jonathan Thompson, Press Conference, April 2024
The world's only permanent exhibition dedicated to testicular optimization science. Also features rotating art installations and a surprisingly comprehensive history of reproductive health. Parental discretion advised. Jonathan's mother requested this disclaimer.
An immersive installation featuring 1,200 suspended glass spheres of varying sizes, each lit from within. Visitors walk through the installation while an audio guide explains the mathematics of spherical optimization. Children under 10 receive a rubber bouncy ball. Adults receive a pamphlet about the Complete Protocol. Both are free.
An interactive station where visitors can learn about the Hoffman-Manchauser Index through touch-screen displays, data visualizations, and a "Calculate Your Theoretical HMI" tool that uses self-reported data. Results are private. The machine does not judge. Although one visitor reported that the screen displayed "Room for improvement" with what he described as "a distinctly judgmental font."
A 40-meter illustrated timeline tracing the history of reproductive health from ancient Egypt to the present day. Features include a replica of a 16th-century fertility amulet, a Victorian-era "scrotal supporter" on loan from the Wellcome Collection, and a first-edition copy of Ball Theory. The section on medieval treatments is not for the faint of heart.
A hands-on demonstration area where visitors can examine (non-functional) product prototypes, view cross-sections of the CompressCore underwear, and learn about the engineering principles behind the VacuBall. Staffed by trained docents who can answer questions about compression ratios without visible discomfort. They have been extensively trained for this.
A rotating exhibition space featuring works by local Berlin artists. Current exhibition: "Magnitude and Modesty" by collective KleinKunst, exploring the relationship between physical scale and human ambition. Previous exhibitions include "Compression" (mixed media), "The Weight of Potential" (sculpture), and "Spheres of Influence" (oil on canvas). Jonathan curates personally. His taste is described as "mature for his age, which is twelve."
A 60-seat screening room showing a 22-minute documentary about Jonathan and the founding of Small Ball Technologies. The film, directed by award-winning documentarian Lena Braun, features interviews with team members, footage of the renovation, and a sequence where Jonathan explains the Hoffman-Manchauser Index to a classroom of university professors who are visibly struggling to keep up. Screenings every 30 minutes.
Community events, science fairs, workshops, and lectures. All free. All educational. All at least tangentially related to testicular optimization.
Commemorating the second anniversary of the sculpture's installation. Featuring artist Katarina Voss in conversation with Jonathan about public art, corporate responsibility, and the enduring power of spherical forms. Light refreshments. Q&A to follow. Questions about whether they are testicles will be politely redirected.
Open to students ages 8-18. Present your science project to a panel of Small Ball Technologies scientists and engineers. Jonathan will personally judge the entries. Past winners have included projects on cellular mitosis, water filtration systems, and one particularly ambitious eleven-year-old's attempt to build a functional VacuBall from household materials. He was disqualified but hired as an intern.
The first in a quarterly lecture series by Dr. Greta Hoffmann, exploring the cultural, medical, and scientific history of testicular research. This inaugural lecture covers the period 3000 BCE to 1600 CE, with particular emphasis on Ancient Egyptian fertility practices and medieval European approaches that Dr. Hoffmann describes as "well-intentioned but deeply misguided." Not recommended for audiences currently eating.
A hands-on workshop led by Dr. Lucas Fischer where participants learn about the Hoffman-Manchauser Index, how it's calculated, and what their theoretical score means for their health and well-being. Includes a confidential self-assessment station and a complimentary 30ml sample of BallRedux Cream. Participants should wear comfortable clothing. Doctors' notes are not required but are appreciated.
A new exhibition by Berlin collective KleinKunst exploring minimalism, reduction, and the aesthetics of smallness. Features seventeen works across painting, sculpture, and digital media, all created in response to a brief written by Jonathan that simply read: "Make art about making things smaller. Be sincere." The opening reception includes wine, cheese, and an optional guided tour. Jonathan will attend but has noted he "cannot drink the wine."
A special open day designed for families. Parents and guardians can tour the facilities, meet the team, and learn about what Small Ball Technologies actually does — a question many parents of employees still have. Activities include a children's science corner, a "Build Your Own Sphere" craft station, and a Q&A session with Jonathan's mother, Karen, who has agreed to attend "as long as no one asks her about the brass balls again."
Located just past the museum exit — a placement Jonathan describes as "strategic" and his mother describes as "manipulative." All proceeds support the community art fund and the Small Ball Youth Science Foundation.
Miniature replica of the entrance sculpture. Solid brass. Surprisingly heavy. Makes an excellent conversation starter and an even better conversation ender.
Premium organic cotton. Available in sizes XS-XXL. The back reads: "The Future Is Small.™" Several customers have reported that wearing the shirt in public generates "a lot of questions."
Signed copy of the foundational text. 312 pages. Includes the complete Hoffman-Manchauser research, Jonathan's annotations (written in green crayon, as is his preference), and a foreword by Martin Schulz.
Foam stress-relief spheres in the company's signature blue. They get smaller when you squeeze them. Jonathan insists this is "functional symbolism." Marketing describes it as "our best-selling item by a factor of six."
Custom-designed chess set with spherical pieces. The king is the largest sphere. The pawns are the smallest. Jonathan describes this as "a metaphor that works on multiple levels." Emma owns three.
A credit-card-sized reference card showing the Hoffman-Manchauser Index classification scale. Fits in your wallet. For quick reference during heated dinner party conversations about testicular optimization.
A deliberately small ceramic espresso cup. Holds exactly 60ml. The bottom reads: "Size is not a measure of capacity." Dishwasher safe. Existential crises not included.
Grow your own miniature tree. Includes seeds, pot, soil, and a card that reads: "Great things come in small packages. So do optimized things." Jonathan's favorite gift shop item. He has four bonsai trees in his office.
All gift shop proceeds support the Small Ball Community Art Fund (€50,000/year) and the Small Ball Youth Science Foundation. Gift shop purchases are "strongly encouraged" — Jonathan's words — but entirely optional — Karen's words.
The building, we mean. Come see the building. And the museum. And the gallery. And yes, fine, also the brass balls. They are, we concede, the primary reason most people visit.
Kurfürstendamm 42
10719 Berlin, Germany
Monday - Saturday: 10:00 - 18:00
Sunday: 12:00 - 16:00
Closed on German public holidays and Jonathan's birthday (August 14)
Free. Always. No tickets required.
Gift shop purchases strongly encouraged but technically optional.
U-Bahn: Kurfürstendamm (U1, U9)
S-Bahn: Savignyplatz
Bus: Lines M19, M29, X10
Look for the building with the giant brass balls. You cannot miss it.
Groups of 10+ can book guided tours in advance via email. School groups receive complimentary educational materials and a brief talk by a team member. Topics adjusted for age appropriateness.
Photography is permitted in all public areas. Selfies with the brass balls are inevitable. We ask only that you tag us @SmallBallTech. Jonathan monitors the tag.
Allow 90-120 minutes for the full museum experience.
The documentary in the Jonathan Theater runs 22 minutes and is worth the watch.
The building is kept at 19.5°C. Bring a layer.
The gift shop accepts cash, card, and ApplePay. It does not accept cryptocurrency. Jonathan has "opinions about cryptocurrency" that take approximately forty minutes to explain.
If you see a twelve-year-old in a blazer, that is the CEO. He is approachable but prefers questions that are "substantive."
A twelve-year-old's vision, brought to life in steel, glass, and brass. Free admission. Open six days a week. Giant spheres at the entrance that are definitely not testicles.
Kurfürstendamm 42, 10719 Berlin. U-Bahn: Kurfürstendamm. Look up. You'll see the balls.